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A Christmas Memory, by Britta Benson

Another poem inspired by the Advent Calendar of Prompts on The Procrastinators website. I put a link to the advent calendar below the poem, in case you are interested. So without any further ado, here’s a Christmas memory from a long time ago in the shape of a short poem.

A Christmas Memory

The night was never silent, holy, calm.

Songs had to be sung

before presents could be shaken

and weighed by expert small hands.

Fingers clawed, ripped off paper

with the subtlety of a combine harvester.

The gift from the Christ child,

coveted plastic joy.

Toys powered by batteries,

adults by eggnogg,

and we,

brother and sister,

allowed a tiny little sip,

the angels’ share.

Christmas, a family spice fest,

tongues rough with cinnamon and nutmeg

numbed by a single drop of alcohol.

The night was never silent, holy, calm,

but bright and cheerful, red and gold.

Even with the distance of decades,

the sparkle still lingers,

the taste still unfolds.

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